Namesake
by InactiveNoLongerUsed
Summary: Rose discovers what newborn babies look like and George and Angelina find the perfect namesake for their child.


**This is just a little idea that I came up with when I should have been writing an essay. It's actually one of my favourite pieces that I've written so far, although I'm not quite sure why as it isn't that descriptive or detailed or even that funny. But I do like it. **

**Just to clarify: Rose is about five here, and Angelina and George's kid is about two days old or so.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"He's quite red, Mummy," Rose frowned at her newborn cousin in concern. "Is he angry?"

Hermione laughed slightly as she pulled her daughter into her lap, resting her head on her daughter's. "No, Rosie. All babies look like that when they're this young."

Rose considered this for a moment, her brows scrunched up in thought. "Was I like that?"

"Yes," Angelina, sitting on the bed with her baby cradled in her arms, replied before Hermione could. There was a small smile on the new mother's face that had been there for several days now. Even when it did fade, it was only for a few seconds. The happiness radiating from Angelina was unending at the moment, something that only those who had been parents themselves could fully understand.

"Was I that wrinkly?" Rose had a wide-eyed look upon her face, still staring at her cousin in a strange kind of awe. She fiddled with the wedding ring on her mother's hand as she waited for somebody to answer her.

"Yes," Hermione shot an apologetic look at Angelina, who only laughed in response. She tousled her daughter's red hair affectionately. "Do you know what you're going to call him, Angelina?"

Angelina looked thoughtfully down at her son. Hermione could almost see the different names flying through her friend's head. Then Angelina looked up and shrugged. "I'm not sure. George and I thought about 'Thomas', after my father but I kind of prefer the name 'Fred'. I haven't said much about it to George - I'm worried it might bring up too many memories for him; you know that he still hasn't really gotten over Fred's death..."

Rose looked curiously at her aunt and her mother. "Who was Fred? I like that name."

"Fred was Uncle George's twin," Hermione murmured, her arms tightening slightly around her daughter. Losing a friend was hard enough, but losing a best friend, a twin? Hermione couldn't begin to understand what George must have gone through. "Maybe it's not such a bad idea, though, Angelina. It might help George to move on... he and Fred shared more good memories than bad, I'm sure, so it might help him to remember the good times rather than dwell on the loss. I don't know."

Angelina's smile disappeared and she clutched her child more tightly to her chest. "Maybe. But I don't want to risk it. George is so happy now, I'd hate to bring it up."

"It's up to you, but I think it could be good for him," Hermione looked down at her daughter, who was tugging at her mother's sleeve vigorously. "What is it, Rosie?"

"Was I smelly, too?" Rose asked, rocking backwards and forwards absentmindedl_y. _Hermione sighed exasperatedly, wondering whether she should really encourage this line of questioning.

"Smellier," George had swung open the door in time to hear the last question, a lopsided smile on his face. Angelina's eyes lit up as she gazed at her husband, and Hermione felt slightly as though she and her daughter were intruding upon a special moment. "You were so smelly that your mum had to wear a peg on her nose whenever she was around you."

"Don't lie," Rose's face puckered up in disapproval. She pointed an accusing finger at her uncle as he sat down next to his wife on the bed. "So... I was like Fred when I was little?"

A shadow of confusion and then realisation flickered across George's face, but Hermione cut in before he could say anything. "You were, sweetheart. Maybe a bit redder, even."

Rose stared at her cousin intently for some seconds as she thought about this. Then a smile broke out across her face and she announced pleasantly. "I think he's going to turn out very good-looking, then."

The room erupted into laughter as Rose hopped down off her mother's lap and grabbed Hermione's hand, leading her into the kitchen to get some sweets. Hermione smiled over her shoulder at her friends and shut the door behind her carefully. She felt as though the new parents needed some alone time with their child. For a split second she stared at the door, remembering the time she had held Rose for the first time. Then she turned hastily at her daughter's wail of surprise and hurt as the cookie tin came tumbling down onto her head.

Inside the bedroom, George was looking curiously at his wife and child. A small part of him felt the unfamiliar surge of pride at the thought of actually having his own family, being able to say the words _my wife and child_. Another part of him was thinking on what Rose had mentioned earlier. Wrapping his arms around Angelina, he said softly. "So, Fred, is it?"

"It was just an idea...," Angelina trailed off, looking worried. She turned her gaze to the child, waiting for a response of some kind.

For several moments, George allowed himself to think about the name and the connections he had with it. Reluctance filled him at first; he didn't want to be reminded every day of his twin brother and what had happened to him. Then the reluctance slowly gave way to a feeling of understanding. He wouldn't need to be reminded of his brother, necessarily. This boy in front of him would not be the Fred he knew, his brother, but he would be a different Fred. They wouldn't be the same, but what better name to give his first child than the name of his best friend?

"No... I like it. Why not?" George smiled. "Fred Weasley. Has a nice ring to it."


End file.
